


Not right, Not real

by BlueMoonHound



Series: John stories [2]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Angst, Anxiety, Dermatillomania, Fluff, M/M, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, self harm mention, self-depreciation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-03
Updated: 2016-07-03
Packaged: 2018-07-19 19:11:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 501
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7373980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlueMoonHound/pseuds/BlueMoonHound
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You bite the tips of your fingers off.<br/>People think it's your nails. It's not.<br/>You're pretty sure you have skin damage. </p><p>You shouldn't, but you do. And that applies to everything. And you hate yourself for it, but you can't stop.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not right, Not real

**Author's Note:**

> I couldn't get the next chapter for A Better Understanding up and I may or may not have cried over pesterlog formatting, but I had this idea (It's definitely a vent? Everything in this fic, excluding the comfort at the end, has happened to me literally.) anyway enjoy ::B

You bite the tips of your fingers off.  
People think it's your nails. It's not.  
You're pretty sure you have skin damage.

Dave doesn't smile. Not that he ever did, really. But you notice when he really doesn't smile. It's like you can feel his emotions. Tell what he's thinking. You're afraid to say anything. Afraid to upset him.

The bad vibes you get. They make you shake and cry into your pillow. They make you run your fingers over the cuts in your thighs, wondering if you should reopen them. The cut on your chest. Wishing for the katana which had sliced through your chest when you were young.

You aren't sure if you really want these things.

You still have a half-scar from last time you almost cut yourself. Layers of skin torn away. No blood though. You don't know if it counts when there's no blood.

You felt it in the game, too. You think. You hardly remember anything about your past. Memories fade not long after they appear.

You bite away the skin, peel back the flesh. You don't notice when they bleed, except to suck at the wound and fill your mouth with the flavour of iron. Fidget. Pick. Your face is covered in scars, too, because your nails like to dig in and tear away the imperfections.

You know you don't eat enough. You stare at the scale. You're 10 pounds underweight now. You know. You don't want to be. But you can't stop your own decline.

You try to keep yourself fit. But halfway through your run or your bike ride you'll have trouble breathing. (You don't have athsma. It's not real. You're fucking dumb. You're invalidating other people by pretending you need to stop.) Your heart starts to beat frantically in your chest. Your vision becomes too crisp, like in an art program, when someone turns the contrast up. Shadows are too dark. Sunlight is too bright. Your vision is starting to white out around the edges. (It's not okay to pretend that this is real.) You go home and collapse on your couch and struggle to breathe and your entire body feels like lead. And then you're tired. You can't sleep, though.

You're tired at 3 AM when you are hungry and thirsty and have to use the restroom but Dave is sleeping in the room across the hall and you just curl up around your pillow and cry, instead. Then it's the night when he's awake and you start crying and you're not quite quiet enough, and he's trying to calm you down. And you cry against his chest and he's saying something, but your ears aren't working.

It's all right, he says. That's all he's saying, you realize.

You know it's not.

(They told you not to cry. They told you nothing you felt was real. You don't have problems. You should be able to stop picking. You shouldn't cut yourself, it isn't right. You should remember.)

_But you don't._

**Author's Note:**

> I'll def write more about john with these kinds of problems but probably not all in one fic next time because gegus... it's too real for me haha


End file.
